


My Lady

by multifandomhaven



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 08:56:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12128985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifandomhaven/pseuds/multifandomhaven
Summary: "Here we are, at the edge of the world, and it's almost as if we've gone back in time, isn't it?" Grace whispered. "Only now you're much more than a bastard. You're Lord of Winterfell now, Jon Snow, and all the realm is better for it."





	My Lady

**Author's Note:**

> For this I've combined two requests:
> 
> Hi! Can you do a Jon snow x reader where the reader and Jon Snow were in love, but he had to go to the night's watch and she later became a captive of Ramsay Bolton (like Sansa). Ramsay baits her to Jon, and then they reunited at the end of the Battle of the Bastards. This is kinda detailed, so I understand if u can. Thanks!
> 
> Requested by: hiphorann
> 
> and
> 
> Jon snow super angst with a fluffy ending! Pls!
> 
> Requested by: Anon
> 
> Let me know what you think!

Jon watched her with a sadness in his eyes.

"Please, Jon, reconsider for me." Grace begged desperately, clutching onto the black furs that he now wore with pride.

Jon winced and lay his hand on hers. "I've made my decision. Grace, I'll never have a life here. I'm the Bastard of Winterfell. At least at the Wall I'll be known as something more than Lord Stark's mistake."

"You're more than that to me, Jon - you're everything to me. We can leave, go somewhere far away, wherever you want to go. Just us."

Jon wanted to, he truly did, but what kind of life could he give her away from the security of Winterfell? He was a good swordsman, he knew, but if he left his home for another he'd just be another man looking for work. A bastard isn't given a choice.

"I'm sorry," Jon said again, this time with finality. His chest was heaving and his eyes hard. "I'm sorry, Grace."

Tears finally sprang from her eyes and a harsh sob tore from her throat. "Don't you know I love you?" She'd asked him through her tears.

"Of course I know," Jon whispered, bringing his hand to her cheek. "And I you."

Grace shook her head, her blonde hair whipping around wildly. "Then why are you leaving me?"

"I must do this, Grace."

Her sorrow was rapidly being replaced by betrayal and anger. Grace shoved his hand away from her face with a sneer. Why did everyone she loved go away?

"Then go, join your Night's Watch. Leave your family and leave me." Grace turned on her heel to leave, unable to look upon his face any longer.

"Grace," Jon groaned. "Don't leave us like this-"

Grace stopped, but never turned. "There could've been an us, but there is no longer."

Jon watched her weave through the crowd that had gathered, some looking and others going about their normal routines. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to see his Uncle watching him with a saddened expression.

"She'll find love, my boy, do not fret. The hardest part is over, we must leave now."

Jon nodded, but stood in place for a few moments longer. "Goodbye, my love."

* * *

Grace sat in a small room, watching the snow fall from the grey skies. She was scared, she'd been scared for as long as she could remember. It was only a matter of time before she, like so many before her, met the wrath of Ramsay Bolton.

Behind her, the door opened. Sansa grabbed onto her, her blue eyes boring into green. "Come, Grace, we're leaving."

Grace's mind began to race. No, no, she couldn't leave. Ramsay's dogs - they'd find her. They'd kill her.

"We can't - we can't," Grace wheezed. "He'll find us, Sansa. The hounds."

Sansa stood straighter. "If I am to die, then I will die while there is still some of me left. I will not die in my own home as a shell of who I once was." She grabbed Grace's hand and held it tight. "I grew up with you. As a girl you were strong, stronger than I ever hoped to be, and look at you now. Ramsay's hurt you, used you. But he has not broken you. Come with me and we will have a chance to begin anew. We may live, but if we stay here, Grace, we are sure to die."

Grace stared at Sansa with tears in her eyes. "I can't. I can't. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Sansa looked at her without emotion and said nothing more. She simply left and Grace let her.

Later that night when Ramsay had returned he was angry. He was so very angry, but he knew better than to have Grace killed at once.

"They will come for you," he chuckled, his icy eyes dancing. "Oh yes, they will come for you and then I will have them both. Come, darling, and write your bastard a letter."

* * *

Jon looked at his sister with confusion. "You wish to go back there?"

"It's our home," Sansa said, shaking Ramsay's letter in her hand. "It will always be our home, and he's there with his flayed man banners. We must take it back."

"I'm tired of fighting, Sansa," Jon said quietly. He looked down onto the scarred table. "I've fought all these years, and I'm tired."

Sansa shook her head lightly. "I will reclaim our home with or without you. I will rescue Rickon and Grace."

Jon's shoulders sagged upon hearing her name. "Has he harmed her?"

"He harmed us all." Sansa's voice was thick, but her eyes never strayed from the letter. "And he will kill her if we do nothing."

Jon sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He couldn't leave her there, his love. He'd left her once and regretted it every day since.

"We will fight."

* * *

The battle was long and bloody, and when Grace saw Ramsay ride back through the gates on his horse she feared the worst. Had Jon fallen? Had he died?

The guard that held her tightened his grip, but as painful as it was she couldn't tear her thoughts away from Jon.

"Hold her," Ramsay ordered quickly, rushing over to get his bow and arrows.

Grace was pushed down onto her knees in the snow and mud. The guard grabbed a fistful of blonde hair and pulled tightly, his other hand producing a dagger and pressing it into the skin of her throat. The blade bit into her neck and she closed her eyes tightly, trying to ignore the warm, dribbling blood that fell down her throat and onto the collar of her dress.

"If you fight me you will die," he hissed into Grace's ear.

There were a series of harsh thuds against the gates and Grace wondered what the outside forces were using to penetrate Winterfell's legendary defenses. She didn't have to ponder for long, however, because suddenly a large monster of a hand broke through. The archers fired it it's giant fist, but it's assault continued. It broke through the door like it was nothing more than than a splinter.

The large creature charged through the gate like a bull, it's great head down and it's shoulders clenched. It's breaths left like the winds of a storm. Arrows were stabbed into the large thing from every angle, and more continued to pelt it, but it was Ramsay that killed it with an arrow to the eye. It fell to the ground with a ground shaking thud.

Grace's eyes searched the men that ran into the gates, and it was then she saw him. Bloody and heaving and weary from battle. He'd grown different in the time he'd been gone, but she'd know him anywhere.

"You did suggest one on one combat." Grace heard from in front of her. Ramsay stood with his arms out, challenging Jon. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

Jon looked around at Ramsay's forces and, when he got to Grace, he stalled. He barred his teeth and glared at Ramsay with a look of pure rage. He rushed forward and grabbed a Bolton shield, holding it before him. Ramsay fired arrow after arrow, and Jon simply continued toward him. Once he was in reach of Ramsay he knocked the bow from his hands and delivered a sharp blow to his chest with the tip of the shield.

A gurgle came from behind Grace and she felt the weight of the man with the dagger to her throat sag against her back. A hand quickly pushed him away and grabbed her, pushing her behind him - a Wildling, she could tell by his garb, with wild red hair and a beard to match. Grace held onto his arm tightly, the stress and fear weighing her down instantly.

"Hold onto me, girl," the man said, his speech slightly broken. He nodded in front of them. "It'll all be over soon."

Grace opened her mouth to tell him she felt faint, but no words left her. The last thing she remembered was a voice behind her yelling for someone to catch you.

* * *

Jon sat by Grace's bedside solemnly, his eyes looking over her delicate frame. He'd requested that she was taken to his room, and that her wounds were cleaned and that she was checked for every possible injury.

The bruises that were left on her sickened him, and he wished that he could relive the end of the battle once more, this time granting Bolton no mercy. Jon sighed and took her hand in his. He thought back on the time he'd taken Grace down to the small opening in the Godswood and kissed her for the first time, how small her hand felt in his on the walk back to the castle.

He had never as happy as he had on that day, the way Grace looked at him - as if he were something more than a bastard.

"At least you still look better than everyone else while you brood." The statement shocked Jon out of his memories.

He looked down at Grace to see her emerald eyes blinking up at him. The corner of his lips twitched, but he never smiled. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand as gently as he could. "It's good to see ya, Grace."

Grace clicked her tongue and shook her head. "I thought I'd never see you again, Jon Snow, and yet here you are to save me again."

"I'd save you a thousand times over," Jon whispered lightly. "How d'you feel?"

Grace was quiet for a few moments, her eyes searching his. She'd missed his dark brown eyes, it seemed like everyone else's were dulled in comparison. "I missed you. I missed you so much."

Jon hung his head. "I should have stayed. If I could go back I would stay and we would have gone wherever you wanted."

Grace sighed. "There is no good in the choices that should have happened. We can only go forward from here."

"And where do you wish to go?" Jon asked quietly. "Do you wish to stay here? In a place where so many horrible things have happened to you? Because I will leave, we can leave together and go wherever you want."

"No, I wish to stay." Grace's throat felt tight, and she did her best to swallow down the emotion that overwhelmed her. "I wish to stay here. With you."

Jon's eyes softened. "Then we will stay here. We will stay and rebuild and have the life you always wanted."

"I still love you, Jon." Grace admitted quietly. "I don't think I ever stopped."

Jon smiled. "And I never stopped loving you, Grace. I don't think I could."

"Here we are, at the edge of the world, and it's almost as if we've gone back in time, isn't it?" Grace whispered. "Only now you're much more than a bastard. You're Lord of Winterfell now, Jon Snow, and all the realm is better for it."

"Lord of Winterfell," Jon breathed. "The Lord must have a Lady, Grace."

"Sansa will be -"

Jon cut her off quickly. "Will you be my Lady?"

Grace's breath caught in her throat, but she nodded, tears shining in her eyes. "I've always been your lady, Jon Snow."

Jon leaned down, carefully, and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "And now you always will be."


End file.
